Bittersweet
by aubrey.lafitte
Summary: Clara is just a normal fangirl that just happens to be sucked into Sherlock's world. How will Sherlock deal with the fact that he is not the only genius in the room? Eventual Sherlock O/C.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

A/N: I was inspired to write this story because of Ashes by StixieMarie. If you haven't read it already, youreally need to becuase it is one of the best Sherlock O/C fanfictions out there. Just a reminder that I am American so if I get something wrong please tell me. Please review if you like it!

I sat on my couch sulking to myself, scooping the creamy deliciousness that is Ben & Jerry's (ice-cream).

I remembered back to last night. My fight with my boyfriend. HE got mad at ME for walking in on him while  
cheating on me with my best friend. He claimed he had been cheating for months now. He trashed my bedroom  
and I refused to go back in there until absolutely necessary.

I sighed and pressed my Playstation button, feeling  
in the mood for a TV show marathon and I had just the one in mind. My favorite TV show starring Benedict  
Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman. I clicked on the first episode and sat back in my nightgown and watched  
happily on my living room couch.

"Guh!", I scream, cursing at the buffering symbol at the bottom of the screen. "But this is my favorite part!" I  
thought to myself. Sherlock was putting the pink pill to his mouth. Finally it finished loading and I tensed, ready  
for what was about to happen. When I heard the gunshot I smiled, glad that John was there to save the day.  
I realized it was probably wrong to smile at someone's death, but I didn't care.

When the credits came up, I glanced over at my bedroom and sighed, knowing what i had to do. I pressed play  
on my remote and paused it, glad it would get to buffer while I was gone. I walked across the living room,  
frowning the whole way to the door. I opened it cautiously, as if something was going to jump out at me.

It was messy, I had to admit, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I started picking up my mattress off  
of the carpet and hauled it back on the bed. I heard a faint murmmering in the previous room and I leaned my  
head against the door and listened intently. I heard the first few words to the second episode of Sherlock.

"You.. you had a row with a machine?" I heard Sherlock's deep baritone voice say.I sighed. "I thought I paused  
you!" I thought aloud. I opened the door, prepared to rewind it and pause it again, except when I did, I wasn't  
in my flat. "What the...?" I said. I saw two men looking at me. It took me a minute to comprehend what was  
happening. I was in 221b Baker Street. Me, Clara Hawkins, in 221b.

"Sherlock," John sighed, exasperated,"Who's this?" He asked mechanicaly, as if not even interested.

" I have no idea," he said, getting up from his  
chair.

"B...Ben... Benedict?" I asked and he looked confused.

He was gorgeous and even taller in person.  
Being the fangirl I am, I fainted. I woke up on a sofa. Benedict, or Sherlock I guess, glaring at me, obviously  
trying to deduce me. "Who are you working for?" he finally asked after an awkward silence of staring at each  
other."umm.."I sat up, with a confused and dazed expression. "No one." It sounded like more of a question.  
This made him stand up and walk over to me, pacing in front of the sofa. I knew what was coming.

"You recently broke up with a boyfriend, cheating on you maybe? With someone you know, probably a friend.  
You have a low-paying job and live on your own in a small flat. You have been under stress lately, a very  
hardworking job, then. You look confused but you obviously know me. You called me.. Benedict, was it?  
Although I don't know who that is in the slightest, I assume you do and I must ask you, who is he?" He didn't  
stop to take a breath once, and now breathing heavily.

"Nobody." He obviously wouldn't believe me. "Not important. Although, I have to say that was impressive." I  
paused. "But.."

"But what?" He looked at me interested in what he got wrong.

I spoke slowly, still not knowing what I was doing here in the first place. "I did break up with my boyfriend, and  
he did cheat on me with my best friend, but I don't have job and I haven't been under any kinds of stress, other  
than my dilemma with my ex." I breathed. He was glaring down at me so intently, I had to drop my gaze.  
I looked at my hands and he sat back down in his chair. He was so much crueler in person. The way he looked  
at you, like you were just a prop, it made you want to run away, sobbing.

"How did you get in here? I have been here all day and I haven't seen you. All the doors and windows are  
locked, therefore, you must have a key, which leads me back to how you are working for someone."  
He looked annoyed that he got something wrong. "So is it Mycroft? Or Moriarty?"

"Woah, slow down there, first of all, I don't know how I got here." I spoke slowly, trying to figure it out myself.  
"I was in my bedroom and then I came back out and I was in the middle of your kitchen." Knowing how crazy  
that sounded, I proceeded to answer his other question. "Second of all, I'm not working for anybody, I thought  
I just told you I don't have a job. You should probably get that looked at. Short term memory loss can be very  
serious and we don't want you to lose that little mind palace of yours." I looked triumphantly at him and  
immediately saw my mistake. He was looking at me with a look that said "yeah right".

"How did you know about my mind palace? Nobody knows about it besides John", pointing to the kitchen.  
I noticed John for the first time since I've been here. He looked at me with a kinder gaze but still suspicious.

I back-pedalled."I thought everybody had a mind palace," I looked at him innocently. He didn't buy it for one  
second."Nice try. Where is the key?" He asked me and held out his hand.

"What key?" I asked sincerelly confused this time. "The flat key. Give it to me. Now."  
"I told you I don't have a key."  
"And I don't believe you. John get it from her."  
I looked at John, daring him to lay a finger on me.  
"If she doesn't have it, then she doesn't have it, Sherlock," obviously scared by my death glare. I smiled.  
"You should listen to him, you know." I decided that this was all just a dream and I would wake up soon.  
Might as well have some fun.

"Fine, I'll just get it myself." My smile stopped short and he started to smirk.

"If you touch me I won't hesitate to kick you in the face." I knew he couldn't really hurt me, it was a dream.  
You don't feel pain in a dream, right?

"Fine, but the only reason, is you dont have pockets and there is really only one other place it could  
be." He looked frustrated and it was my turn to smirk.

"Sherlock, do you have any cash?"  
"Take my card." He spoke to John, but didn't look away from me.  
"What are we going to do with her?" He asked taking the card from the table. I glared. "I'd rather not be talked  
about in front of my face."  
"Well, what's your name then?" John asked. I hesitated, should I tell them my real name? "Clara" I said.  
Couldn't hurt, I decided.

"Well then, what are we going to do with Clara, Sherlock?" Although it should sound mean, he looked so  
innocent and spoke in a non-threatening way, that I smiled. I listened, wondering, myself, what he is going to do  
with me. After a moment of thought, he spoke. "She's coming with us."

"What?" me and John spoke simultaneously. I didn't like the idea of tagging along with Mr. Know-It-All.  
"What if I decline?" I challenged. "I could run away or..." Sherlock looked at me in such a mean way that I  
stopped mid-sentence.  
"Then I will just have to chase after you. Or borrow Lestrade's handcuffs again." He pondered. I shifted  
uncomfortably on the sofa when he mentioned handcuffs. He looked at me when he saw me move and smirked.  
"But I guess Lestrade would make me give them back and that's my only pair." I sighed audibly, in relief.  
"No experiments." John set the rules. "No harming anyone, and absolutely not harming the flat Sherlock.  
We can't afford any more damage." I looked at John and then looked around at the flat. I couldn't believe  
that I was actually here. Maybe it wasn't so bad, being able to play out my favorite TV show. I turned back  
around and Sherlock was looking at John's laptop.

I had an idea. "Off to the bank then Sherlock?" I asked. He looked at me with slightly widened eyes.  
"How did you know?" Yes, I would definitely have fun with this. I ignored his question."Although I would  
feel much more comfortable in some real clothes." I looked down at my nightgown, noting that I didn't have on  
a bra. "What about my favorite purple shirt of yours? That would do." I could ask Mrs. Hudson for an extra bra.

He seemed very irritated of the fact that I knew things that I shouldn't have. H walked into his room and came  
out with (surprisingly) women's clothing. "Where did you get this? Did you steal it from a dead body? That's  
not very respectful, Sherlock." I liked teasing him, but he wouldn't have it.

"How'd you know?" He asked. He chuckled at my reaction. I definitely didn't expect that. I was joking, after all.  
My jaw dropped open and I dropped the clothes. I just stared at them, thinking of the women that once used to  
wear them. "Just put them on," He demanded. "I'll be right back," I told him, going down to 's room.  
I introduced myself as John's friend and she happily gave me a bra. I smiled gratefully.

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson, you're a lifesaver!" I went back up to the room to Sherlock already in his coat and  
scarf, ready to leave. I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I looked like a mess. My brown hair  
looked like a rat's nest. Not finding a brush, I ran my fingers through my hair. It curled slightly at the bottom.  
I wiped my cheeks from the tears that had managed to fall earlier that evening.

I pulled my clothes on and came out and Sherlock was in the same spot as when I was here 5 minutes ago.  
"Ready." I said and walked out the door. "What am I doing?" I asked myself when Sherlock told John to met us at the bank.

What in the hell am I doing?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

He jumped out of the cab after paying the fare and grabbed my wrist so I couldn't run away. He tried to touch as little of me as possible, only using two fingers to strangle my wrist. He didn't let go until we were inside the building.

"Have mercy!" I glared at him and rubbed my wrist. His black curls surrounded his face and I had the urge to run my hand through them, I stopped myself, knowing he wouldn't necessarily enjoy being prodded at by a girl he didn't know (or any girl for that matter). I giggled at that thought. He side glanced at me and I bit my cheek, holding in my laughter.

"What?" I asked, innocently. We walked onto the escalator and he just stared at me for a moment, not answering.

"Nothing", he finally said. He stalked over to the receptionist. "Sherlock Holmes."

We were walked into an office, and I shook hands with Sebastion. I wasn't really listening to the conversation. I already knew what they were talking about. We were lead into the room and I saw the bright yellow paint on the walls. I decided I was going to tease sherlock some more. I walked over to Edward Van Coon's office and took his sign that had his name on it and his it behind me, waiting for Sherlock to eventually get here. I watched him popping up and down looking for the right spot, giggling to myself. He came to where I was standing and turned for the sign.

"Looking for this?" I asked, holding the sign in between my thumb and forefinger. I smiled devilishly as he snatched it out of my hand, irritated that I had found it first. "Come." He called back to me. I followed him back to the cab, meeting up with John halfway.

"You didn't ask his secretary." I said, stealing John's line. "You said that to annoy him."

He waited for me to ask him how he did it, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. He looked back at me, making sure I hadn't gone somewhere.

"How did you know?" He asked, holding up Van Coon's name. "I did the same thing you did, but better, seeing that I beat you to it." I'm not gonna lie, I was trying to impress him. Not that I cared what he thought of me.

"It wasn't a competition," he grumbled and hailed a cab. I was sitting uncomfortably in the middle of the two. I realized I probably need somewhere to sleep. "Do you think Mrs. Hudson would let me stay in the flat downstairs?" I asked, directing it at John . He looked at me, not trusting all that much. "I dunno." He answered. "Maybe I could crash with you guys?" I knew it would probably be hopeless.

"Absolutely not!" Sherlock chimed in. I held up my hands in fake surrender. "It was worth a try." I muttered.

"I'll tell you what." I started. He didn't look at me. "I'll let you have 1 question that I'll answer honestly if you let me stay. Just for tonight." He still didn't turn. He was probably weighing his options.

"3 questions."

"I don't think so" John and Sherlock spoke at he same time. "Sherlock, we don't even know her, she could be a murderer for all we know!" He pleaded.

I could tell Sherlock wasn't listening to him. He turned to look at me with those green eyes, unwavering. It made me hesitate a bit.

"Two." I reasoned.

"Deal." He said.

He shook my hand, carefully as though I was fragile. It was quiet the rest of the cab ride. We got out and Sherlock pressed the button next to Van Coon.

"He's not gonna answer." I said simply. He glared at me and pressed it again, not looking away from me. Obviously, I was right. I stepped up and pressed the button above his before Sherlock could say anything.

"What did you do that for?" John asked. "Just moved in." They answered and I motioned for Sherlock to go ahead. He spoke his little rant and I decided I didn't really want to see a dead body. "I'll just stay out here." I suggested, nervously.

"No you'll run." Sherlock said and grabbed me by my wrist again but I snatched it away.

"My bubble" I motioned around my space and he rolled his eyes. "Besides, I don't have anywhere to go, I'm staying at your place, remember?" He sighed and gave me his keys and a wad of cash. I grabbed the money and then reached out for the key. I grabbed it but he wouldn't let go.

"Make up your mind!" I said. He leaned up to growl in my ear.

"If you are not in our flat when we get home I WILL find you." I gulped and nodded. He let go of the keys and I backed away never taking my eyes off of him until I hailed a cab. "Drama Queen!" I yelled at him and before he could respond I whipped around and got in the taxi and told them where to go.

Later that evening, Sherlock came home without John. I didn't bother asking where he was, and he noticed, obviously. He notices everything. I sat awkwardly in John's chair and he sat at the other chair and put his hands in a praying position. I couldn't stand the silence any longer. "Where am I sleeping?" I asked, hoping to take a quick nap. He didn't answer.

"Would you pass me a pen?" I glared. "The magic word?" I asked. He looked up at me, confused.

"What?" He said. "What's the magic word?" I repeated. "What magic word?" He looked at me as if I had three heads. Oh, god. He seriously doesn't know. I almost snorted. I sighed.

"Get your own pen." He didn't. He just sat there as I got up and made tea. "Black, two sugars, right?" He opened one eye to look at me and then closed it again. "Yes." Silence. "I never told you the address. To the flat, I mean." I froze.

" I saw it on the door." It wasn't really a lie. I did see the address on the door.

"Or how I like my tea." I poured two cups of tea an turned around to take them back to the living room, and I almost ran into him. He had been right behind me. He leaned forward and I stumbled backwards into the counter.

"Lucky guess?" I breathed. He came up to me and bent down so he was right in my face.

"I will not tolerate these lies so you ought to tell me the truth, or I will throw you to the street." I felt his hot breath on my cheek and I smelled his scent. He smelled like peppermint and something else I couldn't identify. He wouldn't make a fool of me.

"No you won't "I leaned closer until our noses were almost touching.

"Oh I won't?" He asked, almost growling.

"No. You won't, because you want to figure me out. The mystery surrounding me. I can tell it fascinates you. Throwing me out would be the last thing you would do." His nose twitched with anger. He looked adorable when he was mad. I shook that thought away. He leapt back and walked to his room, slamming the door. I let out my breath that I didn't realize I was holding. I went to sit back in the chair and sipped my tea quietly until John got back.

Sherlock never left his room.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

As I heard the lock on the door jiggle, I crawled over to the side of the door, out of sight. As it opened, I jumped out when John walked in.

"Hey Johnnyboy! Fancy meeting you here!" He staggered back for a second and I could tell he was struggling to hold back a smile. I contained my laughter and flopped back down on the couch. He went and put the groceries in the kitchen while I flicked through the newspaper. When he was finished, he sat in his old chair. I glanced at him, only to see he was looking at me, and we both started laughing. I rolled off of the couch and my legs buckled.

"Oh god, stop! My stomach!" Tears ran down my face and I concentrated on slowing my breath down to a giggle.

Sherlock's POV:

I could hear their incessatant giggles in the sitting room as I looked through John's laptop, sitting cross-legged on my bed. How could she know these things? Was she working for Mycroft, or Moriarty? I sighed and walk into the other room, trying to ignore her. Apparently, she doesn't like being ignored.

"Hey Sherly!" She teased, throwing a pillow at me."John's got a girlfriend!" I quickly dodged it and rolled my eyes as I made my way to the desk.

"John," they both got up and peeked over my shoulder. I closed my eyes and turned my head towards our unwelcome guest. "Is your name John?" She glared, but said nothing more. Her hair tickled my neck and I cringed away from the contact. She started reading aloud.

"An intruder who can walk through walls murdered a man in his London apartment last night. Brian Lukis, 41, a freelance journalist from Earl's Court was found shot in his fourth floor flat but all his doors and windows were locked and there were no signs of a break in. A police spokesman said they are still uncertain how the assailant broke in…" She straightened up and John looked confused. I rolled my eyes. Must I have to explain everything?

"Happened last night. Journalist shot dead in his flat; doors locked, windows bolted from the inside- exactly the same as Van Coon." His face went slack with realization.

"God, you think-" I opened my mouth to cut him off.

"He's killed another one." Clara said behind me. I grimaced. Damn. I got up, annoyed. One night, I told myself, and she'll be gone.

A/N: Sorry I haven't been updating, and for such a short chapter! I have been so busy with school and boy drama (ugh). But I hope you liked this chapter! Please comment, it would mean the world to me!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Clara's POV:

I stifled a grin as Sherlock got up out of the chair. I stood up and walked over to Billy the skull, fondling him in my hands. "So, are we gonna go somewhere, Scotland Yard, maybe?" Sherlock had a grimace on his face as he took long strides over to me and snatched his skull back. "BILLY!" I screamed, reaching for him. Sherlock rolled his eyes and put him back on the mantle. John smirked, "Billy? That's a new one." I groped my heart and started fake crying. Wow, I should be given an award. "I'll never let go, Billy.."

"Sherlock, what are we going to do about her? We can't just string her along on all of our cases!" John whispered where he thought I couldn't hear him. I strolled downstairs to make a visit to Mrs. Hudson as they sorted things out.

"Hi dear, how are you?" She smiled warmly and began making tea for the both of us while I sat down on her couch, lazily. She walked in a moment later with two cups and I conjured up my best fake smile. "I'm very good, Mrs. Hudson, thanks you." I sipped at my drink.

"Are the boys treating you alright?" I grimaced.

"They're both.." I struggled for the right words. "very welcoming." She didn't seem convinced. I looked down at her fancy glass coffee table and set my unfinished cup of tea on it. "Oh, dear. I'll have to have a word with them."

I shook my head, "Oh no, don't get me wrong, John is nice, I guess Sherlock just needs some time to warm up to me, you know?"

"Of course. How long do you plan on staying?" Good question. I need a place to stay, and there's no way that I could tell how long this dreadfully long and realistic dream will last. "Not sure yet. Hopefully not too long," I could say that truthfully.

"Well, you know we have a flat downstairs that you are welcome to stay in for as long as you'd like." I smiled. Why is she being so nice to me? I've met her literally hours ago. Mrs. Hudson has always been my favorite character, she was just so admirable and affectionate towards the boys, Sherlock especially. That never made sense to me. Sherlock doesn't always treat her with the respect she deserves. I figured she felt responsible for Sherlock and therefore, she should have to put up with his crap all of the time, but that's not how it should work.

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Hudson. And by the way," I leaned closer to her, as not to let anyone hear. "the next time Sherlock disrespects you, I give you permission to slap him, right in the face. I'm sure it would feel good." She laughed. "Nothing I haven't done already, dear." I raised my eyebrows, maybe she isn't as innocent as I thought. "Thanks so much again, for the tea, and the invitation, I should be heading back upstairs." She got up and led me to the doorway. "Bye, Clara." She called as I was walking up the steps. I smiled to myself. Badass Mrs. Hudson. I like it. I opened the door without knocking and found Sherlock and John both putting on their coats. "Where are we heading?"

"Scotland Yard." Sherlock seemed displeased, probably remembering when I had suggested it earlier. I turned myself back around and jumped in a cab.

A/N: Sorry about the fluff. I love fluff, if you can't tell. I'd love some suggestions so please comment! I probably won't be so quick on updating as I am now, I have loads of stuff to do for school (bleh). I'd love to hear your opinions! And yes I am a fan of johnlock, but I just can't get any ideas for a new story, so I'd love your help with that, too.

*BROHUG*


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